Chapter 16
Viola woke slowly to the soft morning light filtering through the curtains, the faint hum of the city waking up outside. Her body felt warm and sated, tangled in the comforting weight of Mack's arms wrapped protectively around her waist.
She turned her head just enough to peek at him. His face was calm, almost serene—until his eyes snapped open and locked onto hers. Suddenly, that calm vanished, replaced by a possessive intensity that made her heart skip.
"Morning," he said, voice low and gravelly, but with a mischievous glint.
"Morning," she whispered back, still half in that delicious haze of sleep and last night's memories.
Mack tightened his hold just a little. "You're not going anywhere today."
Viola smirked, trying to hide a laugh. "I had plans."
"Not anymore," he said, eyes narrowing playfully but firmly. "You're mine this morning. And possibly the afternoon."
She rolled her eyes but couldn't stop the grin spreading across her face. "You do realize you sound like a jealous puppy?"
"Jealous puppy? I'm more like a lion who just got a really good meal."
She poked his ribs lightly. "You're more like a teddy bear who wants breakfast in bed."
His grin turned into a mock scowl. "Don't test me, Vi. I'll start calling you my 'little troublemaker.'"
Viola laughed, her fingers tracing idle patterns on his arm. "You're impossible."
"And yet here you are, still wrapped up with me."
She sighed, resting her head on his chest. "I could get used to this."
Mack pressed a gentle kiss to her temple. "Good. Because I plan on keeping you close—for a long, long time."
She closed her eyes, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her ear, already knowing that this possession, this fierce protectiveness, was exactly what she needed—even if it came with a side of playful stubbornness.
"Breakfast?" she murmured.
"Only if you promise not to run away."
She smiled sleepily. "Deal."
- - - - - - -
"I thought you might like a change of pace," Mack said with that half-smile that always made her heart skip. "Ever been to a shooting range?"
Viola shook her head. "Never. But I'm ready to learn."
They arrived at a sleek indoor range, the air thick with the scent of gunpowder and leather. The staff greeted them with nods—Mack clearly known here—and soon they were suited up in safety gear.
"Safety first," he said, his voice low and steady. "But don't let that scare you."
Viola swallowed, her heart pounding, both from excitement and nerves. Mack handed her a handgun, his fingers brushing hers briefly. The contact sent a shiver up her arm.
"Here," he murmured, adjusting her stance gently. His hands firm but careful on her hips, guiding her posture. "Feet shoulder-width apart, lean slightly forward."
She met his eyes, the closeness between them sparking an electric charge. "Like this?"
"Perfect," he said, his breath warm on her cheek. "Now, grip the gun tight, but not too tight. You want control, not tension."
His fingers closed over hers as he helped steady her hands. Viola felt his body press subtly against hers, the heat undeniable. She tried to focus on the target downrange, but the intimacy of his touch distracted her deliciously.
"Breathe," Mack whispered, his lips nearly brushing her ear. "Aim slowly, then squeeze the trigger."
The first shot rang out—sharp, crisp—and Viola's eyes widened in surprise.
"Not bad for a beginner," Mack praised, voice thick with something unspoken.
He stepped even closer, his chest brushing hers, his hand lingering on her waist. "Here, try again."
Each time he adjusted her grip or stance, his touch left a trail of fire. His fingers grazing her skin, the low vibration of his voice giving instructions—it was all a tease, slow and deliberate.
When she finally hit the bullseye, his eyes darkened with pride and desire.
"See? You're a natural."
Viola's cheeks flushed, partly from the accomplishment, partly from the way his gaze pinned her.
"Could teach me more... later?" she said, voice teasing.
Mack's grin was slow, dangerous. "Oh, I plan to."
As they left the range, the tension between them was thick enough to cut with a knife. Mack slipped his hand into hers, his thumb brushing over her knuckles.
"Not bad for your first lesson," he said.
"Not bad at all," she replied, heart pounding.
The sharp crack of the gunshot echoed in the enclosed space as Viola's pulse raced—not just from the noise but from the closeness of Mack behind her. His body pressed subtly against hers, warm and steady, grounding and electrifying all at once.
"Good," he murmured into her ear, his breath hot against her skin. "You're getting better."
Viola swallowed hard, feeling the heat of his hand lingering on her waist as he adjusted her grip again. His fingers brushed her skin with just enough pressure to make her shiver.
"You know," Mack whispered, voice low and teasing, "if you focus that well on me, I'd never get a moment's peace."
She glanced back at him, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips. "Maybe that's the point."
He smirked, lips brushing the shell of her ear. "You're trouble."
Her breath hitched as his hand slid from her waist, tracing slow circles down the curve of her hip, barely touching, yet utterly consuming.
"Careful," she teased, "or I might start thinking you're distracting me on purpose."
"Distracting you?" Mack's voice dropped to a husky whisper. "Who said I'm not?"
Their eyes locked, the air thick with tension that had nothing to do with the gunfire. Viola's fingers tightened around the pistol, her body humming with anticipation.
Mack leaned even closer, the scent of his cologne mixing with the sharp tang of gunpowder and her quickened breath.
"Next time you miss," he promised, "I'll make sure it's for a much better reason."
She swallowed, heat blossoming in her cheeks. "Is that a threat?"
"Only if you say no to what's coming after this."
He backed off just enough to give her space, but the smouldering look in his eyes said everything. Viola's heart hammered—not from the noise, but from the delicious tease of a man who knew exactly how to keep her on edge.
The next shot rang out—steady, precise.
Mack's grin was wicked. "Now that's what I call hitting the target."
Viola laughed breathlessly. "I think you've ruined me for all other shooting instructors."
"Good," he said, sliding his hand into hers as they walked away. "I like being your only distraction."